The Red King [Book II]

XXV

"Alex..."

ㅤIn a small chapel off the side of the great hall, only a door separated them from the steadily filling galleries. Aching chatter echoed beyond, boomed by the high vaulted ceilings, the sound murmuring quietly under the threshold. For them, it was a tide away.

ㅤFletcher's hands were trembling whilst Llwyd was sitting in a lone chair with crossed arms, concentrating on nothing. Any previous argument that'd walled them off from Alex was vapour at that moment, a horrible absence lumping in their stomachs.

ㅤJames was not there.

ㅤA heavy breath escaped him, and Alex scrubbed his face, his skin numb. His eyes didn't close, staring into the dim light between his fingers.

ㅤ"...We can't stall for any longer." Fletcher's voice was small. "What do we do?"

ㅤSlowly, Alex's hands fell.

ㅤ"Why are you asking me?" It came out hollow, a bland echo to his own ear. Despite its gentle resignation, those almost-whispered words stung in their brittle silence. "I don't call the shots anymore. I don't have anything to give. It's done, Fletcher. I can't coronate an empty chair."

ㅤFletcher's shoulders rose as he fidgeted with misplaced desperation.

ㅤ"Alex," he invoked again. "There must be something we can do. This can't be deliberate—James wouldn't. We should look for him. We can send someon—"

ㅤ"Who? Who could we send? This isn't Athel's Lynn and it's certainly not Hitchleigh. We can't send Thomas out there anymore. We have no one and nothing."

ㅤ"Why do you keep—" Fletcher cut himself off with a lip bite. "This can't be the end. Something must've happened to him. Alex! Why are you just... why are you just standing there? We can't—"

ㅤYet, what was Alex supposed to do?

ㅤThe nobles had already gathered. The society he was supposed to rule over was already seated. Without the king present, all they could do was watch it painfully fall apart. Their sandy foundation would crumble as leisurely as nightfall and Alex couldn't stress about it when there was a pitting comfort in knowing it was beyond his control.

ㅤJames might return, at some point—Alex believed that—but it didn't matter if he was going to miss his coronation regardless. The damage was going to be irreversible.

ㅤSeeking one last effort, Fletcher turned to Llwyd who, surprisingly, wasn't taking the opportunity to verbally cut Alex at the knees. Despite the banquet set in front of him, the man was uncharacteristically subdued.

ㅤ"Llwyd?"

ㅤ"Hm?" Llwyd looked up. "What is it?"

ㅤ"...Any thoughts?"

ㅤThe man blinked, processing the question. "No?"

ㅤ"Not one?"

ㅤ"...What do you want me to say?"